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by Hellborne * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
May the wind always be at your back And the sun always upon your face And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars. --Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung ("Blow")
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Prologue - Preparations and Trepidation
Raymond Stewart, Lord
Smythe-Douglass, governor of
"Yes, milord." Anthony was used to the carryings on of the popinjay governor and tended to humor him, although this was a very realistic costume as far as he was concerned. The mask was horrific, with long, straight horns that rose two feet above the governor's head. The tail was constructed in such a way that the wearer could make it wag by tugging on a thin wire that strung back through the costume and down the sleeve to a ring on his left hand. Merely moving the arm naturally caused it to move almost as if it were alive. The governor also seemed to be in high spirits for the first time since taking office. Anthony was used to him being melancholy, moody, and very proper, though never angry.
But tonight was special. Governor Smythe-Douglass couldn't wait for the ball to start. He looked at the clock on the desk and frowned. "Two more hours. Anthony, is everything ready? I do so want this to be a party that people will talk about till the next one!"
It was as if the governor had been shoved back into childhood with his new enthusiasm. Anthony hoped it would last past the party. The governor was a good man, and he'd like to see him happier. /I guess being thrust into office when you already own half the island would make anyone bored and melancholy./ "Yes, milord. The hall and the food are ready, and the servants are all in place. We have but to wait for the guests."
"Splendid!" The governor pranced out of the room to go bother the other servants some more,
* - * - *
"I refuse to wear it on the grounds that it makes me look ridiculous."
"Now Robert. If you don't wear it, everyone will recognize you." Lizzy was giggling, but she knew her costumes. "Will isn't complaining about HIS costume."
Will glared at her out of the long folds of black fabric. "Who's not complaining?"
"But WILL, there's nothing to complain about. Nobody will recognize either of you in those costumes."
"But don't you think someone will recognize YOU in YOUR costume?" Will frowned.
"ONE, it doesn't matter if they
do or not, since they don't seem to realize that I'm a pirate. And TWO, I've
heard that this costume has become the rage in
Both men shrugged. It was impossible to get the upper hand with Elizabeth Swann once she'd made her mind up.
"You DO have the presents, don't you?" She looked sidelong at Robert.
He grinned broadly. "Of course." He presented a box large enough for a pair of boots. It was wrapped in brightly printed, light and airy cloth instead of paper, and had a red and green ribbon around it. "I believe he'll appreciate this gift more than all the gold in the world."
Lizzy smiled. "I know. When Lt. Groves told us how miserable he was I decided he just HAD to have them."
Robert stopped smiling. "I only wish that the situation were different for him." Lizzy and Will agreed, and Lizzy left to don her own costume. It was almost time to leave for the ball.
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May the wind always be at your back And the sun always upon your face And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars. --Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung ("Blow")
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Chapter 1 - Party and Pirates
As the guests were announced as the characters of their costumes, Lord Raymond was at first startled when the name "Jack Sparrow" was announced. He looked, and found to his amazement, a lady who had donned the pirate's clothes and a wig with trinkets and a scarf. Then it became something of a tedium to him, as it seemed that the entire town seemed to think the villain was some kind of dark folk hero, to be imitated or pursued at parties. For it seemed to him that fully a third of the guests, mostly female, had come as the despicable pirate, and were quite popular.
He himself was quite popular, as this was the first official party that had been thrown since he'd taken the governorship, and people were quite interested in meeting him. He stayed polite to all, but seemed to have his mind elsewhere. He didn't even wag the tail very often, though each time he did, the ladies were delighted.
It must have been the fifteenth (or was it the twentieth) "Jack Sparrow" that arrived with "The Angel of Darkness" and "Juliet Capulet." He met them as he had the other guests, but as the porter at the bottom of the stairs tried to take the box from "Juliet," "Jack Sparrow" took it back and gave it directly to the governor, saying, "this gift is too fragile for the gift pile, milord."
The governor smiled. He knew who this "Sparrow" was. "Ah, then pray tell what is it?" He made to shake it but was stopped by the "Angel of Darkness."
"This gift is far too fragile to shake. Perhaps you should open it in the study?"
/That was Will's voice. And if THAT'S Will, and "Sparrow" is Lizzy...oh NO!!/ The governor laughed, unable to control himself and almost dropping the box, which Lizzy grabbed. When he was finally able to bring the laugh down to a giggle, he took the box back. "Yes, let's retire to the study." They all walked to the study, the governor in the rear, closing the door as soon as they were all inside. He started laughing again. "I swear, Robert. You are the prettiest lady at the ball!" He sputtered as he said it, unable to help himself, holding his sides from the pain of his ill controlled mirth.
Robert scowled. "Well, the least you can do is open your present."
Lord Raymond calmed himself again, and looked at the box. "What is it?" He started untying the ribbon.
"It's a little something to cheer you up." Robert grinned.
Lord Raymond finished with the ribbon and unwrapped it. The box was rather plain and had holes in it, so he just plain ripped it open. Inside the box, lying together in a yin-yang position on a little pile of rags just big enough to cover the bottom of the box, were two pure white, baby ferrets. The governor melted. "Satan and Kali had these?"
Lizzy reached into her pocket and pulled out two adult albino ferrets. "Yes, a girl and a boy. And we brought Satan and Kali to visit you as well."
Raymond was almost in tears as he took the two adult ferrets, sat down on the divan, and let them crawl all over him after he nuzzled them. "Oh, I've missed you so much!" He kissed Kali on the nose, then repeated it with Satan. He took the babies out of the box and held them in his hands, nuzzling them to his face. "They're beautiful."
Will was the first to come back to reality. "Governor, you're going to have to get back to the ball. I'm sure we weren't the last to arrive." He took the two adult ferrets and gave them back to Lizzy, who put them in her pocket again.
"Yes, I'll have to go back in there. But not for a couple of minutes at least. Robert, how's my Lady faring?"
"We're getting along quite well, though she misses you a great deal. How is your back?"
"Healed. Looks wretched. Same with the rest. Did Pintel and Ragetti get back all right?"
"Yes. No one saw them."
"Good." Lord Raymond started gently stroking the two ferret kits. "Any problems with any of my old friends?"
"None. With you dead, they've accepted me
as Captain of the
"Any thoughts of going back to the fort?"
"Oh, I missed it for a while..."
"Liar!" Lizzy giggled.
"All right. I haven't missed it at all. You were right...the freedom feels wonderful."
"Good. I've had some reports from the plantation, so I know you're all doing well on that account, and it looks like you decided to let Captain Groves in on our little secret. May I ask why? I mean, he's trustworthy and all, but why did you take the chance?"
Robert smiled. "Captain Groves is a good man. He's kept many a confidence, and besides...I knew he'd be very downhearted when you were hanged. He believed you to be the best pirate he'd ever seen, and the look on his face was almost hero worship. In fact, should you ever retire from the governorship and go back to your former profession, I know that he'd be more than happy to abandon his post and follow you anywhere."
"I know that, actually. He asked me if I would take him to be my butler, but I need information from the Commodore that only Captain Groves can seem to get, so I had to turn him down. But I wanted to thank you for telling him, even if I didn't know your original reason." He stood up, placing the two furry puffballs gently into a huge brandy snifter and held out his other hand to Robert. Raymond grinned. "Milady, it would be a privilege to escort you back to the ball." Robert scowled, but took his hand, allowing himself to be led out of the study.
* - * - *
After all of the introductions were over, Lord Raymond seemed to fall into his old habit before he became governor: He stayed with the ladies, talking with them, wiggling his tail, and introducing them to his new pets. When one of the ladies asked what their names were, he replied that he had just received them as a gift, so he didn't have names for them yet. This instigated a contest for the rest of the evening to name the cute little fuzzbutts.
Captain Groves was handling Commodore Gillette rather well, keeping him away from the pirates and from Lord Raymond as was planned.
The evening was turning out even better than the governor had hoped. He danced with several of the ladies, including Lizzy and "Juliet," and looked for all intents and purposes to be a perfectly happy poof. He'd even had a little "quiet time" in the study talking longer with the three pirates who he called "friends."
Near
"No. It's not the
"Yes sir."
They dragged Captain Groves out and walked him behind. One of them pointed a dagger at him. "We've got clothes for ye to wear on the Dragon, Governor."
"Oh, well all right then." He went quietly, hoping that his butler would know what to do.
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Chapter 2 - The Devil and the Dragon
Robert watched as the prisoners were
brought aboard the Dragon and ordered the guns to cease fire and prepare to
sail. He would follow the Dragon to the depths of hell to retrieve Lord Raymond
and
* - * - *
Once aboard, they separated the two
costumed men.
Lord Raymond brushed himself off,
apparently trying to get rid of the dirt from the men's hands. He could feel
that the ship had left the harbor and was now in open water. From the lack of
rocking, the ship was moving with the wind, and he distinctly remembered the
wind was coming out of the West. /
The captain sliced a piece of roast and put it on Lord Raymond's plate. "Ah, a politician who doesn't mince words. Amazing." Captain O'Sullivan grinned. "Well, Governor, as I'm not rightly sure who the man is who came with you, I can't say what I'll do with him. Perhaps you would enlighten me? Black pudding?"
The governor raised his eyebrows and thought quickly. "He is my assistant, and I would appreciate that you allow him to stay with me, as I am not accustomed to being without his aid. No thank you. Yorkshire pudding? And perhaps some potatoes."
"Certainly." He scooped some pudding and some of
the new potatoes onto the plate. "So would you say that he is 'valuable'
to the government?" He pointed at yet another dish. "
"No more than I am. If it's ransom you're after, the government won't pay a farthing for either of us. Yes, please."
The pirate grinned as he sliced the turkey. "Now why don't I believe that?" He placed the slice onto the governor's plate.
"I'm sure I wouldn't know. That's enough, thank you."
The pirate captain placed the plate before Lord Raymond. "Drink?"
"Water will be fine, or, tea, if you have it."
"Certainly." He prepared a cup of tea for the governor and placed it in front of him. "Enjoy." Captain O'Sullivan moved back to his own place and sat down.
Lord Raymond daintily sliced some meat and ate it. "My compliments. This turkey is excellent." He took a sip of the tea. "Now Captain, if you wish to ransom me, it will benefit both of us quite a bit more if you do so through my companies than the government. And of course, the same goes for my assistant. Now, how much were you thinking of as a ransom?" He took a new potato on his fork and popped it into his mouth.
The captain smiled sweetly. On him it looked like a grimace. "I was thinking of ten thousand guineas for you. And I suppose another thousand for your assistant."
The governor almost choked on the
potato, laughing. "Oh why be so generous, captain? I'm sure you could get
more for me than that, if you don't try to get it from the government, which
has little enough money to run things, let alone to pay a ransom for a governor
who is out of favor with His Majesty. My suggestion to you is to send the
ransom demand to the barman at the Gilded Tankard in
"A barman? Do you think I'm daft?"
"Only if you
don't follow my suggestion, my dear Captain." Lord Raymond took a sip of the tea.
"Excellent tea, Captain. The barman at the Gilded
Tankard is the one man in
Captain O'Sullivan watched the governor drink, smiling. "I thought we'd give them a week to stew on it, then send our demands with proof that we've got you."
"Proof?" He delicately stabbed another potato and bit into it. "What kind of proof are you thinking of?"
"I was thinking that your signet ring would be adequate proof." He grinned in a way that said more.
"And the finger wearing it, I suppose." The governor sipped his tea casually.
"Aye, I was thinking that would help them make their decision faster."
"Actually, Captain O'Sullivan, what that would do is anger a group of people in such a way that I suspect that you would be begging for an imaginary mercy that would never come. I'm afraid that I'm rather popular with various groups who are rather, shall we say, protective of me. No, Captain O'Sullivan. What I would suggest is that you send my assistant Theodore with the message. It would also guarantee that you would receive your ransom that much quicker. Oh, and I don't believe that you need to take a week out for anyone to realize that I'm gone. You did, after all, interrupt my Christmas Ball. I would say that the entire aristocracy and a large number of others know that I've been taken."
Over a mouthful of roast, the captain grinned. "Governor, you seem awfully calm aboard a pirate ship. And here you are helping me with the ransom demand. I ask myself why?"
"I can assure you that I am,
how do you say it? 'Quaking in my boots.' However, I
am also an Earl in His Majesty's court, and should word get out that I was less
than completely composed, I would be the laughing stock of
"Let alone rescued, eh? Governor, while my men were out abducting you and your assistant, the Black Pearl sailed in out of nowhere and attacked us. I want to know what you have to do with the Black Pearl."
Lord Raymond looked surprised. "The Black
"YOU hanged Jack Sparrow? I hardly believe that, Governor. You don't seem the type capable of ordering a man hanged."
The Governor smiled sweetly. "I don't? I can assure you, Captain O'Sullivan, that I personally gave the order to hang Jack Sparrow, just as I shall personally give the order to hang Shamus O'Sullivan." The smile never left his face.
O'Sullivan shot up and around the table in a flash, grabbing the governor by the collar. He dragged him to the door. "Hoyt! Take him below and put him in the brig with the rooster!"
Hoyt grabbed Lord Raymond by the arm and hauled him away, jerking when the governor didn't go fast enough.
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Chapter 3 - Old Scars and New
Captain Groves was not happy. He was sitting in the brig of a pirate ship in a rooster costume. A ROOSTER costume! He thought of Lord Raymond in his devil costume and hoped that the pirates didn't force him to change his clothing. Who knows what they would do if they saw all the marks on the man. One thing was sure; Lord Raymond's body was not that of an aristocrat.
He sat on the small bench at the back of the cell, watching the ladder leading the upper decks, waiting. He could tell that the ship had weighed anchor and was now sailing with the wind, and unless the wind direction had changed since he arrived at the ball, they were headed west. He wondered what was in store for him if they found out he was a naval captain. Hell, he wondered what was in store for him as a rooster.
When the hatch opened, the first thing he saw were a pair of red shoes, followed by red legs and a silken barbed tail, bobbing and wagging as its owner climbed down the ladder. /At least they didn't change his clothes./ Lord Raymond was followed down the ladder by a man almost twice the governor's size. /Well, the governor is rather slight./
The large man looked at
Lord Raymond picked himself up,
trying to brush the grime off of his costume. The tail wagged wildly from the
wire being pulled.
Raymond laughed, taking the ring off and letting it escape into the costume to its resting place. "I can picture it. You're right." He started examining the bars, then sat on the bench, quiet. "I think I pushed him a bit far."
"Oh?"
"Well, we were talking about the ransom and the best way to get it and move this little holiday jaunt behind us as it were, when he brought up the Black Pearl. Then he claimed that I didn't have the backbone to order Jack Sparrow hanged. I told him that I did, and that I'd see him hanged too, and I guess he took that as an insult, so he had me thrown in here. For a moment there I thought he was going to have me flogged."
"But how would you explain your back? Or your arm?"
Raymond smiled. Don't worry, Ted. The most he can find out about me through either of those areas is that I'm rather clumsy."
"What? I've seen your back."
"You saw my back before I
became governor. Shortly after I arrived at
"What did they do to you?"
Raymond paled slightly from the
memory and cocked his head, listening. He lowered his voice almost to a
whisper. "I had them pour boiling oil on all of my scars."
Ted took hold of the governor's right hand and pulled the sleeve up to the elbow. What he found was a horrible looking scar that went from elbow to wrist all around the arm. There was no sign of anything else having been there. "How did you get rid of the tattoo?"
"Nothing that
a little skin removal couldn't fix."
"So how are we going to get out of here?"
"Well, that will depend on whether the good Captain O'Sullivan takes my suggestion or not. If he does, you could be out of here by tomorrow, and I might be free by the day after, depending on how long it will take Georges to get the ransom from the plantation."
"Georges, sir?"
"The barman
at the Gilded Tankard in
"Why him?"
"Because he's my business manager while I'm away."
"A barman?"
"Can you imagine someone better to know all the goings on of a town? And he's very good at keeping track of all my holdings, as he used to be an accountant. So I have the best of both worlds."
Ted laughed. "He used to be an accountant? And now he's a barman. Then again, considering who his employer is, it doesn't surprise me."
"Luckily, it WOULD surprise anyone else, which is why he's so valuable to me. Now, if O'Sullivan does not take my advice, we may be here for a week or two...or at least most of us may."
"Most of us?"
"He's thinking of sending my ring with his ransom demand...with the finger still in it, of course." Lord Raymond looked at his hand, examining the ring and the forefinger on his right hand. "I hope he takes my advice. I'd definitely miss that finger." The ship started to list slightly to larboard. He smiled. "Looks like he is taking my advice." He stopped, hearing something. "They're coming."
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Chapter 4 - Crime and Punishment
Two men climbed down the ladder and
motioned
When he reached the main deck, he knew he was in trouble. The area around the mainmast had been cleared, and Captain O'Sullivan and his quartermaster were standing at the ready, the quartermaster holding a long, coiled whip at his side. Raymond looked up at the stars and the sails. /Good. We've come around./
Captain O'Sullivan cleared his
throat, bringing Raymond's attention back. "Lord Smythe-Douglas, you have
been much help in planning your ransom. We shall be doing as you have
suggested, and are even now heading toward
One of the guards grabbed Lord Raymond by the upper arms and held him as the other removed his shirt. There were gasps as the pirate crew saw his ruined back. They tied him by his wrists around the mainmast and stepped back. Captain O'Sullivan stepped forward into his view. "Nothing personal, governor, but I cannot lose the respect of my men."
Lord Raymond remained calm. "How many?"
"Threatening a captain should earn you death, governor. However, since you are worth far more to us alive than dead, we have decided to be lenient with you. You shall receive Moses' Law."
The governor nodded solemnly. "Have at it then." He closed his eyes and drew deep into himself, relaxing his back as he leaned against the mainmast. When the first of the blows landed, he flinched slightly, and realized that the quartermaster was being lenient with him indeed; while the whip caused his back pain and left great weals of red, he knew that it could be much worse. He drew himself deeper into his meditation and tried to bear it gracefully. As the blows crisscrossed each other, his thoughts started to get interrupted by pain.
At the thirtieth blow, he screamed. It seemed the quartermaster had run out of leniency.
By the final blow, Raymond was hoarse and close to passing out, but as they untied his wrists, he grabbed the mainmast and turned around without assistance. The two guards took and held him by the arms, more as support than anything else. As he walked slowly to the hatch leading to the brig, he heard many voices from the crew mumbling, and most of those voices were in awe.
* - * - *
Captain Groves heard the flogging through the open hatch. He counted them as they happened, and though he was sure that Raymond could withstand flogging better than most men, it still amazed him that he stayed quiet till the thirtieth blow.
He was astounded again when he saw
the governor descend the steps with minimal help, though his head was bowed and
his hair had come out of its queue and was hanging free. One guard opened the
door to the brig while the other brought Raymond all the way to the rear of the
cell and helped him sit down, giving
After the hatch was closed, Lord
Raymond raised his head weakly.
Raymond nodded, his breathing fast and shallow. He took a deep breath and held it, closing his eyes, then started breathing slowly and deeply, almost as if he were asleep.
Ted could see the muscles in his face reforming to the way they belonged to Governor Smythe-Douglass. He ripped one of the cloth "feathers" from the red tail of his costume, removed the wire, and tied Raymond's hair back.
Lord Raymond opened his eyes and looked at his friend. His voice was hoarse but strong. "How is it now?"
"Good. You're back to normal. I still don't understand how you do that."
"Took years
to master. Learned it in
Ted took the rag and soaked it in the bucket. Raymond turned so that his back faced Ted and heard a quick intake of breath.
"Lord Raymond, I do not believe they 'went easy' on you." Ted cleaned the blood off of the torn back. "No, Raymond. They most definitely did not 'take it easy' on you. Your back will need stitching." He did what he could and laid the rewetted rag over his back, letting Raymond's long, hip-length hair fall over it in its queue.
It didn't take long for the guards to come back down to the brig. This time they bore manacles and called "the rooster" out first. While one fitted him with manacles on his wrists, the other walked into the cell, gently fitted the other pair of manacles onto Lord Raymond's wrists, and helped him walk out of the cell.
Raymond thanked him for his assistance, and climbed the ladder followed closely by Ted and the two guards.
* - * - *
Captain O'Sullivan helped seat Lord
Raymond personally, and motioned Ted to a seat as well. The food from before
had been replaced with bowls of fresh and marinated fruit, and there was even
cream in a couple of small pitchers around the table. Once he stood at the head
of the table, he bowed to Raymond. "Governor, you have the respect of me
and my crew, and I'd like to make you feel as comfortable as the situation
allows. I'm afraid I can't just let you walk free on deck since we are skirting
Raymond reached for a banana and winced slightly. Ted passed him the banana and one of the pitchers of cream. The governor smiled and thanked the pirate for his hospitality.
Ted spoke up. "Captain, I've done everything that I can, but Lord Raymond's back requires stitching."
O'Sullivan nodded. He went to the door and threw it open. "Dennings! Bring your sewing kit! Lord Raymond's back needs tending!" By the time he walked back to his seat at the table, a small, elderly man came through the door and stood quietly behind Lord Raymond, kit in hand.
Raymond whispered, "thank you," and was helped to a small room off of the main cabin.
Captain O'Sullivan nodded at Ted. "Eat up."
Ted took a few marinated cherries into a bowl and poured cream over them. He took a careful bite, gave the captain a surprised look, and ate them much faster. "Captain, these are delicious! How are they made?"
O'Sullivan grinned. "The
cherries have been marinated in brandy and sugar, and the cream's been
sweetened as well.
Several minutes later as they were finishing, Dennings walked silently into the main cabin. "He's restin' comfortably. He didn't want any, but I made 'im drink some rum for the pain. Cap'n, I think ye should see this." Ted and the captain rose and walked into the small room.
The man on the bed was lying on his back, his hair out of his queue and draped carelessly over his shoulders, though the red scrap of material had been tied around his forehead to keep it out of his face. The dark shadow of his whiskers almost made him look like he had a beard and mustache. He had bandages wrapped around his upper torso, though there was a blanket laying over him up to his stomach. The rum had relaxed him completely, and his face looked tranquil, as every muscle in it lay slack. There was no mistaking it. The man sleeping serenely on the bed was Jack Sparrow.
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Chapter 5 - Relative Confusion and Revelation
Captain O'Sullivan looked at
"Know what? That the governor looks like his cousin? Of course. Why do you think he doesn't drink? He doesn't want to be identified as being related to the man. Believe me, Captain, O'Sullivan. There was no love lost between Lord Raymond and Jack Sparrow. He was so glad to see him hanged that he had the pirate's gold teeth pulled. They're in Lord Raymond's offices in the governor's mansion at the base of a painting of the gallows. His shipping companies and rum company had been the victim of that pirate for years."
Dennings shook his head. "I sailed with Jack Sparrow for three years, and I swear it's him."
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Dennings.
While I admit that the resemblance can be uncanny, I was with Lord Raymond when
he visited Sparrow in the gaol the night before Sparrow's hanging. Sparrow was
furious with the Governor for daring to sign the order to hang him. He said it would
bring a curse down on Lord Raymond if he hanged his own cousin. But he swung
the next morning, and there has been nothing but clear sailing for the governor
since. Until last night when your men arrived, anyway."
O'Sullivan looked at
"I'm sure that could be arranged, Captain. Although Lord Raymond can be a most stubborn man, he can usually be coaxed into seeing reason."
"Of course. And he does seem to be a fair man. Certainly he isn't a greedy man by what I've heard of him. That IS the reason we took him, actually. As far as politicians are concerned, he seems a very fine governor. Though hanging his own cousin seems a mite overzealous against pirates. Jack Sparrow was never one to be bloodthirsty or overly greedy. Only killed those who were trying to kill him or those he was responsible for. I met him once, and though he made people think he was crazy, if you ask me, I'd say it was all an act. He was a fine man; smarter than most. He was just too sentimental to be a good pirate, truth to tell. It's no wonder the Black Pearl wants the governor. His crew was loyal enough that he didn't need to renew ships' articles unless someone left, and that didn't happen often."
O'Sullivan pointed to a hammock above the bed. "That's for you. That way you can be near the governor when he comes to."
"Thank you, Captain. These are
actually perfect accommodations." O'Sullivan walked out.
* - * - *
Robert made sure to keep the Dragon barely within spyglass range. /Idiots. They're leaving their lights on at night. This will be easy./
About an hour before the end of the mid watch, the Black Pearl was a mere hundred feet astern of the Dragon, with her longboats lowered and loaded with crewmembers ready to give their lives if need be in order to save Lord Raymond.
* - * - *
A bell was ringing. His head was ringing. Lord Raymond sat up, banging his head on something soft. Above him, looking down from a hammock, was Captain Groves. "Ted, my head hurts. It's ringing. What happened?"
"Your head isn't ringing, milord. This ship is under attack. You were drugged last night. I had to tell them about 'your cousin.'"
"Did it go well?"
"Yes. So well, in fact, that O'Sullivan intends to blackmail you."
"That's fine." A gun report was heard. "Ah. A rescue then. Robert's arrived."
"But with the story about your
cousin, O'Sullivan believes the
"Hmm...that could be a problem. O'Sullivan is greedy enough to defend me. Or..."
The door opened. O'Sullivan and the two men stood there, pistols ready. They were obviously not happy about something. O'Sullivan held a small hatchet in his hand. "As much as it pains me, it appears you must take your leave of us. The Black Pearl's crew have boarded this ship and are demanding you and your assistant. However, as I will not have you for the ransom..." He lifted the hatchet. "I shall need 'proof' that I've got you. Please make this easy or I'll have to remove other parts to prove my sincerity." He looked deadly serious.
"Now just a moment. I'm sure that we can all come to an agreement. Let me write and seal a letter for payment. You'll get your money without having to take pieces off of me."
"They won't respect the letter after you're dead."
"Yes they will. I'll backdate it to before the attack and state in the letter that it's payment for services rendered. They'll honor it. Then you take the manacles off of us so that we have a fighting chance to swim to shore. So you see, it's a fair trade. Is that acceptable?"
"Ah, but what if you DO get
free and get to
"I said, 'for services rendered.' I consider it a great service to give us a chance for life against the Black Pearl, and worth every farthing. So decide, but do it quickly, before they get here."
O'Sullivan thought for only a second. "We have an accord. See that you don't go back on it." He had one of the men run for the paper, pen and wax while he unlocked the manacles. They all moved into the great cabin.
* - * - *
As Raymond pressed his ring to the wax seal, the outer door burst open. Robert and six men stood there, cutlasses drawn. O'Sullivan started toward them, but Lord Raymond lifted his hand and spoke in a commanding voice. "Stop! I'll not have any more bloodshed on my account! Captain James, if I am the reason you have attacked this ship, please order your men to cease hostilities. I'll go quietly, as will my assistant. Captain O'Sullivan, thank you for your hospitality, but there is no need to lose more lives in my defense. Now, if everyone will allow my assistant and I a moment to get dressed..."
Robert picked up on what was
happening and sent one of his men to stop the attack. "I'm afraid we won't
have time for that, governor."
As they brought the two almost naked
men aboard the
As soon as Raymond's feet hit the
deck, he mumbled, "Robert, blow them out of the water. I don't dare let
them live." He was ushered into the captain's cabin, followed by
Shortly thereafter, Robert walked in
followed by one man in chains and a guard. "Lord Raymond, this man begged
for parlay, offering to join the crew. He said he'd been on the
Raymond looked over. The man in the manacles was Dennings. "Yes. He sailed under me for three years or so nigh on fourteen years ago. He's a good man, and handy with a needle and bandages...even if he's a little liberal on the laudanum."
"So you ARE Jack Sparrow! I knew I was right!"
Jack nodded. "Aye, mate. I was. But you have to understand that Jack Sparrow is dead. Captain James here is sparing your life on my say so. If any word leaks out tying me to Sparrow, your life will be over, savvy?"
He grinned. "I savvy, Lord Raymond. It's just nice havin' one of our own in power."
"No it's not. It's a bloody nuisance. But I'm glad we have an accord."
Robert and the others left, and
Raymond and
* - * - *
TBC
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 6 - Bloody Commodores!
The two-day trip back to
Robert swore and gave the order to raise the white flag even as he heard Gillette's tenor voice yelling at them to stand to and be boarded.
Robert heard Raymond mumbling to himself. "Bloody commodores always wanting to board my Lady!"
Robert looked around at the comment and laughed "Lord Raymond, I daresay, I agree with you, but please remember, she's MY Lady now."
The Earl smiled. "That she is,
Robert, and you have taken care of her admirably. But the feelings have never
died, and I still love her and always will." He looked over at Gillette
and waved enthusiastically, traipsing lightly down the stairs to the quarterdeck,
trying to keep the pain from his back out of his facial expression and
movements. "Oh Commodore! There's no need to
threaten my rescuers!" He watched as the ships were lashed together and a
plank drawn between them. He motioned for
As Gillette arrived on the deck of
the
"No, no. Not
at all. Captain James has been quite hospitable in fact. You realize
that they rescued
Gillette was aghast. "Surely they would never do that to you! How many lashes did they have the nerve to give you?"
"Thirty-nine. They gave me the full Moses Law just because I assured their captain that I would see him hang."
"Lord Raymond, you must come with me to the Relentless to have the doctor see to your injuries!"
"Unnecessary, Commodore. The doctor here on the Black Pearl fixed me up quite well, and when we get back to port, I shall have my personal physician see to it. I'm fine. Now, unless I was informed incorrectly, Captain James has invited both of us to his cabin for lunch." He motioned Gillette toward the captain's cabin. "Shall we?"
"Dine with pirates? Are you mad?"
"I daresay the food on this ship is singularly delicious. I tried to bribe their cook away to be my personal chef, but he is quite loyal to Captain James."
Gillette grinned at a memory. "Ah, they must still have the same cook. Skinny, with a glass eye?"
"Yes, that's him."
Gillette's speed into the cabin increased. "He IS a good chef. Let's see what he's cooked up this time."
Lord Raymond tittered. "I thought you didn't want to dine with pirates."
As he reached the door and knocked, Gillette looked at Raymond and smiled. "Most pirates don't eat this well."
The door was opened by Pintel, who ushered them to their seats. Gillette noticed that he even fluffed and set a pillow behind Lord Raymond's back. /Very civil for pirates. I must meet this Captain James and compliment him. Though he is a pirate.../
Pintel gestured to the food. "De captain has been detained by some important ship's business, and has told me to have you start widout him. If dere is anything I can get you gen'lemen, please let me know." He bowed and started serving, starting with Lord Raymond.
The cuisine was wonderful. Hot, fresh bread with garlic butter, a pasta with a white sauce that almost made Gillette inhale the food like a commoner, meatballs that defied description, served in their own, spicy sauce, and wine that Gillette reasoned must have come from a French lord's private stock. There was fresh and marinated fruit and light, filled pastries for dessert. Gillette hadn't eaten this well since he'd been held captive on this very ship six months before. "Magnificent cuisine, sir. Please give my compliments to the chef."
Pintel smiled. "I will sir. Thank you."
Lord Raymond finished the bite he was eating. "Indeed. Please remind Mr. Ragetti that I still have the openings for both of you at the Mansion, and if circumstances don't allow for it now, you are both welcome to come any time."
Pintel grinned. "I'll remind him, Governor, but I know he'll say he's happy here." Pintel suddenly stood back from the table and saluted.
Gillette and Raymond followed his gaze. Captain James had entered the room from behind a set of curtains and was standing quietly, grinning at the two aristocrats. "Still trying to steal my chef, Governor? Shame on you. I thought only pirates and other lowlifes stole things." He'd made his voice a bit gruff to hide his identity from Gillette. He looked quite different from Norrington as well. Though he couldn't hide his aristocratic nose, his hair was long and completely braided in tiny rows down the back of his head and weighted down with trinkets, keeping it out of his face. He had a two-day growth for beard and mustache, as he'd had to shave it for the ball, much to his displeasure, as it was his main disguise from those who knew him. His clothes were fit for piracy...certainly not as a commodore of the Royal Navy, with what was obviously Jack Sparrow's tricorn hat sitting proudly on his head over his own blue scarf.
Lord Raymond looked surprised. "No, Captain. Pirates and other lowlifes as you call them don't GET AWAY with stealing. It's all a matter of social class. The higher the social class, the more likely he is to get away with it." Robert sat down at the head of the table, listening attentively, his hands moving of their own accord to fill his plate. His eyes twinkled. "Take you, for example. You are a wanted man. Why? You are on the bottom rung of the social ladder. You have no tact in your thefts. Now, the merchant class gets away with thievery every day, but they call it "market value" and "profit." Don't anyone tell me that many of the goods sold today are worth as much as people pay for them. I should know; I have many merchant holdings." He tittered into his napkin. "And then there's the Aristocracy. We hold the lower classes accountable for our actions like a royal whipping boy to a prince! We care accountable only to a crown who is so far away as to be nonexistent. And don't get me started on the thefts made by Royalty!"
Robert tipped his head. "And what about slaves?"
"Slavers!" The governor spat on the floor.
Pintel hurried over to clean it up, Robert giving him a smile and nod in
thanks. "Lowest form of human being in my opinion, but we have to treat
them like merchants. Slaves, not even being ON the social ladder, are held
accountable for whatever his or her master claims, whether true or not. If it
were up to me, there would be no slavery in
"But there are many slaves on the island."
"Yes, and I free them as often as I can."
"Why not just free them by decree?"
"I could do that, yes. And the slaves would be free for as many minutes as it would take their owners to lynch me. No, I'm afraid I can't do it that way till I've abolished it in other ways. Believe me, I'm going as fast as I can."
The more Gillette listened, the more familiar Robert's voice sounded to him. The gruffness of the voice hadn't faltered, but there was SOMETHING about it...and his face was terribly familiar, as if..."Captain, Governor, I apologize for the interruption to such an interesting conversation, but I was wondering if Captain James had seen Miss Wiggles lately?"
Robert looked at him and opened his mouth to speak. Shut it again. "Miss Wiggles?"
A meow was heard from behind the curtain, and a very proper looking white Persian cat padded into the room, sidling up to Robert's leg. "Meow?"
Gillette giggled into his napkin at Robert's embarrassed look. "I'd always thought Sparrow didn't have it in him to kill you. But why did you turn pirate?"
Robert picked up a meatball from his plate with his fingers and gave it to a very contented Miss Wiggles, who took it gently and then ran under the curtain with her prize as if her tail were on fire. The gruffness in his voice disappeared and he smiled. "I'm afraid Commodore Sparrow made me an offer that I couldn't refuse."
Before Gillette could ask, he felt something quickly climb his leg onto his lap. He looked down and saw Satan propped up with his front paws on the table, trying to steal a meatball of his own from Gillette's plate. "I thought this was one of Sparrow's ferrets. So you kept him? Where's the other one?" He started scratching Satan behind the ears, holding him away from his plate.
"Yes, Satan did belong to Jack,
but now that I'm captain of the
Lord Raymond smiled. "Not to worry, Commodore. She's not on the Relentless. Point of fact, she crawled into my pocket an hour ago and has been sleeping there ever since. Beautiful ferret. Reminds me of two of my Christmas presents from the Ball. I do hope Loki and Ishtar are all right. After all, I did have to leave rather abruptly."
Commodore Gillette looked at Lord Raymond. "Your butler is taking good care of them, I assure you. They were quite an extravagant gift milord. Who brought them?"
"Actually, it was Captain James, here, who brought them. I believe you danced with him at one point during the evening."
Robert was looking at his food and trying not to laugh. "Indeed he did. Commodore Gillette, you do dance most divinely." He chuckled.
Gillette looked at him, mouth open in total shock. "That tall Juliet! That was you?" Robert nodded, his eyes filled with mirth. "And you didn't tell me?"
Robert laughed. I considered telling you after you kissed my hand, but something told me that I didn't wish you to have me shot, after running me through." All three of them broke into laughter.
Gillette recovered first. "Governor, did you invite pirates to the ball? There were three people in that group."
Lord Raymond smiled. "Yes, there WERE three of them, weren't there? And yes, I did invite them. You see, the other two were Miss Swann and Mr. Turner, and as they are members of this crew, I invited their captain as well. Please remember that Miss Swann was Weatherby's daughter. So of course I invited them."
Gillette gave Satan a meatball and put him on the floor, watching him run beneath the curtain with it. "James-"
"Call me Robert. I've gotten used to that name now."
Gillette swallowed. "Robert...I don't mean to be indelicate, but the question must be asked. Governor Smythe-Douglass had Sparrow hanged. Why isn't the crew - especially Turner and Miss Swann - out for his blood?"
Robert looked at Raymond. Lord Raymond looked back at Robert, a forkful of food frozen half way to his mouth.
* - * - *
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Chapter 7 - Relentless and Renegade
Raymond put the fork back on the plate and looked at Gillette. "Probably because, as soon as Sparrow was hanged, I personally granted clemency to each of the crew and gave a Letter of Mark to Captain James. And they've held the ship's activities to that agreement quite well, attacking only Dutch, Spanish and French ships. Plus, I've set them exclusive bounties for every pirate ship that attacks British merchants."
"But for every member of this ship? That is highly irregular."
"Just so. Nevertheless! What better way to keep me alive?"
"But Turner and Miss Swann...surely you could not bribe them enough! Sparrow was a good friend of theirs."
"He was, yes, that is true, but...we discussed it at length. Sparrow is dead. Suffice it to say I'm still alive. I can be very persuasive when it is called for, believe me."
Once lunch was concluded with the serving of nuts, fresh fruits and a fine port, Gillette suggested that he and Lord Raymond adjourn to the Relentless. "After all, it's not like I would try to sink a privateer with a Letter of the Mark. Captain James, be sure you do have that letter with you or some 'glory-seeking naval captain' may try to sink you." He grinned sheepishly.
Robert smiled and pulled an envelope with the governor's seal out of a pocket. "Of course. I keep it on my person at all times." He slipped the envelope away again.
Lord Raymond remained seated. "I should actually prefer to sail in with the Black Pearl. That way, the citizenry understands that Captain James and his crew mean them no harm. I have some business to discuss with Captain James at the Mansion as well, so I do hope it acceptable to you for me to ride in on this ship? I promise to look over your lovely new flagship when my business with Captain James is concluded." Lord Raymond smiled beatifically at the Commodore, his eyes twinkling.
Gillette smiled, obviously proud of his new "toy." "Very good, milord. Oh, would you like me to send Captain Groves back over? I have noticed that he often visits the mansion when he's off-duty, and a few more hours won't be a burden on the navy if you need him."
"No, thank you, Commodore, I suspect that Captain Groves has had quite enough of my antics. And truth to tell, he has been visiting the mansion to see Estrella, the upstairs maid, and so far, he has been quite the gentleman, much to her disgust."
* - * - *
Although he retained a cultured
accent, all of the governor's usual poofish mannerisms and vocal inflections
were gone. "Now, Robert, I'm not complaining at all you understand. You
have outdone me by far in the number of slaves freed, but my question is HOW?
With Will and Lizzy on the
Robert gave the earl a sheepish
grin. "Well, Raymond, please remember that when you were 'in the
business,' so to speak, you refused to refurbish the slave ships and employ
them to the cause up until Anamaria talked you into keeping the Redeemer.
Without a shred of compunction, I admit I have no such aversion. We train the
former slaves to sail and to pilot the ships, and then add those who wish to
stay with us to the fleet. The Black Pearl only attacks treasure ships and
various French or Spanish ships, and lately the Dutch, plus your list of
cutthroats, with the help of the Dauntless. I'm sure you will be pleased to
know that Marty has renamed her '
Lord Raymond was impressed.
"And any former slaves that don't wish to hunt slavers go to the
plantation at
"Yes, of course. That will never change."
"And what do the new crews thing of continuing to live on and use their former vehicles of captivity?"
"They actually seem to enjoy it. They take delight in gutting the ships and refitting them to handle passengers instead of 'cargo'."
"Hmm...If I were in their position, I would want it sunk. Ah well. You're doing wonderfully, Robert. Now, what bounty ships have you sunk and what do I owe?"
The two men spoke at length for several hours, and by the time they finished, it was in the wee hours, early the next morning and both of Lord Raymond's new ferrets were asleep on his lap using each the other as pillows.
As Robert stood up to leave, Raymond finally spoke what was on his mind. "Robert, thank you for rescuing us. I know Ted was getting tired of being O'Sullivan's guest, and I wasn't exactly looking forward to losing any more of me. Seven teeth and some skin off my back is quite enough in my opinion." He held his right hand up, examining it. "And I definitely like my finger right where it is."
* - * - *
Lord Raymond pouted. "Why not? If you want me to look at the Relentless properly, I must see it in action."
"But milord, the dangers! What if we meet up with pirates? I've a duty to keep you safe!"
/I've had it up to HERE with duty! I bloody want some FUN!/ "Commodore, there are few pirates left in these waters, and I promise to go hide in my cabin like a rabbit if there's any kind of trouble."
Gillette thought about it. "But your back-"
"-is healing nicely according to Dr. Johnston."
The commodore surrendered. "All right. We sail at dawn with the tide in our favor. If you don't wish to rise that early, you are welcome to board immediately and sleep in your cabin tonight."
"No need for that, Commodore, I'll see you bright and early in the morning then. I have a lot to catch up on tonight."
Bowing, Commodore Gillette left.
* - * - *
When Lord Raymond arrived at the docks bright and chipper in the early morning hours, all eyes were upon him. He wore a quite appropriate set of clothes for sailing, but the lavender coloring of that style clothes made many of the sailors laugh. He pranced up the gangplank with a matching sack over his shoulder, a well-kept pistol in his belt, and a Turner Original at his side. He walked rather daintily into the great cabin, sat at the table and waited.
Gillette walked into the great cabin and bowed to Lord Raymond. "Milord, we are about to set sail. If you would like to observe, you may accompany me on the foredeck."
"Where shall I put my things?"
Gillette quickly helped him stow his gear and they left.
* - * - *
The Relentless was impressive as she
sailed, even to Lord Raymond's standards. Larger than the Dauntless at one
hundred twelve guns ranged on three gun decks; with her new, sleek design, she
was clearly as fast as the Interceptor had been. The first four days had been
clear sailing, with only the occasional British merchant ship sighted. By the
end of the fifth day, Lord Raymond was getting antsy; he could smell a storm
brewing, but he didn't dare say anything to Gillette. Had
Gillette handed him the spyglass. "Not really. It appears to be another merchant ship. It's flying British colors."
Lord Raymond looked through the spyglass. Sure enough, the ship had a British flag flying. But there was something disturbingly familiar to him about the lines of the ship. Raymond kept watching, and saw the ship turn in their direction. He recognized the figurehead; it was a ship he knew well and never wanted to see again. "Commodore, the ship seems to be heading this way. Shouldn't your men get ready?"
Shores took the spyglass and looked again. "Milord, go to your cabin. I recognize that ship as the Renegade. She'd been gone for several years; I'd hoped she'd been sunk."
Raymond started to protest, then saw
the look on the captain's face and keeping his word he made his way most
reluctantly into the great cabin. He heard Shores calling orders and shook his
head. /Bloody navy. Captain Wright will tear them apart while I sit here
waiting for him to find
* - * - *
The two ships converged and engaged, the guns of both ships firing mercilessly at the other. While the Relentless fired the regulation standard cannonballs, the Renegade peppered the Relentless and her crew with grape shot and caltrops, killing and wounding whole groups of men as the flying shrapnel hit its marks, the caltrops scattered on the deck making walking and running precarious for the barefoot sailors. At last, the Renegade was able to pull close enough to the naval ship so that the pirates began boarding.
Lord Raymond peeked through the
cabin door and watched in horror as the crew of the Relentless slowly fell one
by one to the Revenge. Then he noticed that the helmsman was dead, draped over
the wheel.
Watching the one-sided carnage before him was taking its toll on Raymond. He had no love for the navy, true, but he couldn't stand by in hiding and watch good men die. He checked the cabin for more pistols. Not finding any, he drew his Turner Original and strode out the door toward the helm, cutting through several of the attackers on the way, shouting orders and rallying men as he went. There was a definite tone of command in his voice and the air of his mannerisms; none of his usual lilt or prancing was in evidence. In fact, he seemed more at home giving orders and fighting than any of the marines.
Sailors scattered before him and
made ready to run. Soldiers banded together after he passed and defended each
other. When several of the soldiers tried to follow Raymond to the helm to
defend him, he sent them instead to find and defend
As the great ship started turning with Raymond at the wheel, the men cut away the lines as fast as they could. The Relentless pulled away with fully half of the Renegade's crew on her decks. Raymond ordered all cannons loaded with grape shot and chain shot, crossed the "T" at their bow, and fired. Two of the three masts on the Renegade fell.
The Relentless' crew cheered and
began immediately mopping up the few pirates remaining on their ship, giving
quarter to those who gave up, locking them securely in the brig. While he
watched some soldiers carrying
Raymond grinned savagely and attacked. Lewis was momentarily thrown off guard as the man dressed in lavender and pink before him bore down on him with the voracity of a pirate.
"Lewis, give it up! You're taken! Your men are surrendering and the Renegade will never catch us. You can't win."
"Then I'll take you to hell with me, you bloody poof!" He slashed at Raymond, who was deftly parried the blow.
"All right then, have at it." Lord Raymond growled and attacked in earnest, his heart singing as he struck Lewis in the side.
A crowd of men gathered, watching as Raymond and Lewis fought. Once, the men applauded as he tied off the wheel maintaining parries and ripostes, without even looking at Lewis; he was clearly the superior swordsman, though his tactics were not always orthodox. In fact, many of the men recognized his style as that one would expect of a well-trained, experienced pirate.
Round and round they danced, Lewis falling back as Raymond advanced, a demonic gleam in his eyes and a wide, delighted grin on his face, no longer composed and serene. A sudden, lucky thrust from Lewis pierced Raymond's shoulder, making him drop his sword positioned for the killing blow; Lord Raymond pulled his pistol from his belt with his left hand, cocking it as he drew and shot Lewis point blank in the chest. He watched calmly, the red stain from his shoulder spreading across his chest, as Lewis fell.
Soldiers and sailors alike cheered
as Raymond put his pistol away and picked up his sword, wiping it off on the
dead man and sheathing properly in its scabbard descending from the quarterdeck
ordering, "clear away that mess and head this ship on its way back to Port
Royal. If you sight black sails, run up a flag of truce and come and get me. I
want Wright and his crew stopped before they can cause more trouble." One
of the sailors moved immediately to the helm, unhooked the wheel and set course
for
* - * - *
Click.
Raymond's eyes snapped open. Other
than that, he made no movements. He knew that sound, the click of a pistol
being cocked, and didn't want to frighten the wielder and startle them into
doing anything stupid. Moving only his eyes, he was surprised to see Gillette
standing next to the bed, several red stains on his uniform. The lilt in the
governor's voice was definitely back and going strong. "Is this a new way
to say 'good afternoon' to the governor of
Gillette's hand didn't move. "No, milord. This is the polite way of saying 'good morning' to a pirate."
Raymond sat up slowly, holding his wounded shoulder. His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped dangerously to just above a whisper. "You obviously do not know to whom you are speaking, Commodore. Now I would suggest that you go back to your cabin and rest till the doctor gets to you and we both forget about this little act of treason."
"I don't think so, Sparrow. If either of us has committed treason, it is you, and I'll see you drawn and quartered for it."
Raymond sat up straight.
"Commodore Gillette, first of all, put the pistol down before I have you
arrested and stripped of rank." Gillette hesitated, but lowered the pistol
so that it was no longer pointing at Lord Raymond. "Second, I am, in fact,
Raymond Charles Jonathan Stewart, Lord Smythe-Douglass, Earl of Jamaica, and
First Sea Lord of the Caribbean. These titles were given to me by King Charles
II, and continued to be so acknowledged by King James II, William and Mary,
Queen Anne, and currently by our good King George I, who has recently added to
my titles by naming me Viceroy of the
"You are Jack Sparrow, former captain of the Black Pearl and a notorious pirate."
"Which means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things other than I am less of a threat to the king than you and half the misguided, miscreants, betrayers and rogues that currently surround him as officers of the royal court. I AM Raymond Stewart, Lord Smythe-Douglass, and what I have done as Sparrow does not concern you."
"Then you really ARE Sparrow?"
Snatching the pistol from Gillette's
hand, Raymond's eyes narrowed, flashing dark fire. "You would come in here
and threaten me without knowing this as fact? My dear Mr. Gillette, I do not
care to even begin to think of how you ever became commodore over Ted. He has
more sense in his left shoe than you have dripping out your ears! Suffice it to
say, yes, I was also Jack Sparrow, and the most boring and unpleasant thing I
have ever had to do was to accept these appointments from King George and hang
Captain Jack Sparrow! Now go back to your cabin and wait for the doctor like
the good little obedient Royal Navy toady that you are. We're on our way back
to
"He's alive, thanks to you. As is most of the crew, myself included. I do wish to thank you for that."
"And a fine
thanks it is, too...shoving a pistol up my nose whilst I'm sleeping and
threatening me on top of that. I should have you clapped in irons at the very
least. Now, we'll need someone to pilot this ship into the harbor at
"Just
yourself, milord.
"Well, that is one thing I want to see changed. I want all officers trained and qualified as harbor pilots for emergencies just such as these."
"But milord, that is-"
"-Highly
irregular. Yes,
Gillette, it is. So is having your entire piloting crew killed or wounded in
such a way that a naval ship is kept helplessly waiting outside of the harbor,
completely useless, while pirates blast the bejesus out of a town with their
nasty little cannons. So, Commodore Gillette, as long as I AM First Sea Lord of
the
Later that evening, the sailors of
the Relentless stared in shock as
"No problem, milord. The Renegade will be at the bottom before dawn." Marty bowed and left.
* - * - *
Raymond couldn't stop giggling. "And so George sent his letter to me, asking what I want done with the idiot!" He laughed some more.
Raymond handed the letter over.
"Few people realize that my father, Charles Stuart, was kept from starving
in
Ted looked aghast. "Have I done something to offend you, Raymond? I am quite happy with my present position."
The governor laughed. "Then I suppose I shall have to speak to Commodore Gillette. Could you tell him that I expect him for dinner tonight? Don't bother him with the details. But do make it clear to him that refusing the invitation is not an option." He took the letter back and put it in his pocket. Ted left.
* - * - *
"Anthony, please give the commodore some more of that savory meat-pie." Anthony dutifully refilled Gillette's plate. "So, commodore. How do you like the food? I requested this pie made especially delicious for this occasion." He pulled out a letter with the king's royal seal on it.
Gillette took another bite of his pie. "This is quite good. The meat is a bit of a mystery though. I believe it to fowl, but it's too wild a taste for squab, and it isn't pheasant or grouse. What kind of meat is it?" He looked at Raymond, then at the letter. "A letter from the king? Good news, I hope?"
"Good news for some, I suppose. As for the meat, that's crow, commodore. When you sent your letter to the king regarding Jack Sparrow, you failed to consider that 'Uncle George' has known my identity all along. He sent me your letter, asking me what to do with you."
Gillette's face was one of horror. "M...Mi...Milord, I thought-"
"No, commodore, you did NOT. HAD you been thinking, you would have realized that had Commodore Norrington not already had proof, he would never have become what he is today. However, instead of stripping you of rank or wasting good rope hanging you, I shall give you the opportunity to redeem yourself. I have already made arrangements with Robert. You shall have the same 'voyage of discovery' training I gave him. When you return, perhaps you will not be so arrogantly 'high strung' and proper. I require loyalty, Commodore, but I do understand that such loyalty as I demand must be earned. The Black Pearl will be in port with the night tide. It sails again at dawn. Be on it or be hanged. I shall see you in a month or so."
Gillette bowed, not sure if he was relieved or not. "Thank you, milord."
Raymond grinned evilly. "We'll see when you get back whether you still think that thanks are in order. Now off with you. Shoo. Oh, and pack a very light sea-kit. You will be furnished with everything you need." Gillette left.
* - * - *
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Chapter 8 - The Letter
"Your Royal Majesty King George I" #Dear Uncle George.
#There is no need to punish Commodore Gillette; he is actually quite capable of punishing himself. I have sent him on a very humbling but educational journey.
#As to the
issue we have been discussing, may I suggest
#I would so much enjoy returning to
my life, if you feel that
#Your favorite nephew, faithful subject and good servant,#
"Raymond Stewart, Lord Smythe-Douglass Earl and Governor of Viceroy of the Admiral of the Black Fleet"
Raymond read over the letter again and sealed it with his crest, putting it in the dispatch satchel and calling for his equerry. "Anthony, please fetch Captain Groves for me." He sat down to write a second letter.
"Yes, sir." The servant left.
When
"Yes, either written or with a passenger. Have him go down to my private sloop at the dock and hand the captain this letter." Raymond produced a letter and the dispatch satchel and handed them both to Ted. "The ship sails with the morning tide. He is to bring the letter directly to King George. The satchel itself should get him through all of the court jesters people usually have to deal with."
"Raymond, might I ask your reason for writing such an urgent message to the king?"
"I'm tired, Ted. I'm asking George to send a replacement. There is nothing exciting to do here. I want the wind on my face and the spray of the sea. I want to get out of these ridiculous clothes and stop acting like a bloody popinjay. I didn't even have to do that at court! I hate Lord Smythe-Douglass every bit as much as Commodore Gillette does...maybe more because I hear the poof speaking at every waking moment." He looked forlorn. "I just want my life back, Ted. Is that really too much to ask?"
Ted smiled sympathetically.
"For the common man, that's not too much to ask. But you are an Earl of
the realm, m'lord, and the most powerful man in the
"Bugger that, Ted. I know I told you to remind me when I miss my old life. But the correspondence in that satchel could be exactly what I need to get my freedom back."
"How is that?"
"My eldest son is twenty-four years old, and I've made sure to afford him the right experiences to take my place in every way."
"But you have so much more experience than he."
"I would hope so. By the time I
was twenty-four, I'd been captain of the
"Uncle George?"
"I said I was 67th in line for
the British throne. I'm also 37th in line for the crown of
"You're a son of King Charles II?"
Raymond smiled. "Yes, and he
was a wonderful father; I was five when he died. Anyway, Robert Richmond, my
titular father, had been sent to the Caribbean when I was six, and when I was
seven he made arrangements for me to meet him here on Jamaica. Uncle George
almost ordered him home rather than let me go. You know, if George had done
that, I wouldn't have been on that ship when the
Ted's mind was in a whirl. He'd known that Raymond was high in the British peerage and had connections to royalty, but had no idea that he was one of the sons of that Merry Monarch Charles II! "And I take it you'll be departing immediately he arrives?"
Raymond smiled. "No, Ted. I'll
remain here for a month or two after he arrives. I want him to feel comfortable
with being governor before I 'retire'. So relax, Ted. And don't worry about
"Good night, Raymond." He turned to leave.
"Ted?"
"Ted smiled.
"Thank you, Raymond. I appreciate the offer, and I promise to give
your son a chance, as you put it, but I fear that by the time you retire, if he
is anything as capable and charismatic as you, its shall be quite a difficult
choice. I'd better get going. MacGreggor will need to pack his kit and get
moving."
* - * - *
TBC
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 9 - King and Country
As Commodore Gillette strode up the gangplank of the Black Pearl with both anticipation and trepidation, he was met by Will Turner, the tip of his sword pointing directly at Gillette's throat.
Gillette gulped. "Permission to come aboard the Black Pearl, Sir?"
Will raised his weapon by way of salute and sheathed it with a flourish. "Permission granted, Commodore. You are to report to the helm. Commodore James is waiting."
Gillette smiled as he mounted the steps where Commodore James was waiting for him, followed closely by Will. "Jonathan Gillette. Your education shall begin as soon as we are out of spyglass range." He turned to Will. "Take him to the great cabin and make him...'comfortable'."
Will took Gillette's arm gently and led him into the captain's cabin, fastening manacles from a ring in the floor to his wrists, ankles, and around his neck. "Don't do anything stupid, Commodore, and it'll go well for you." He quickly searched the navy man, finding no weapons. "Well, you're starting out well enough. Slaves aren't allowed weapons."
Gillette's mouth dropped open. "Slaves? So I'm to be sold into slavery?"
"No, Commodore. You'll be Commodore James' personal slave for as long as it takes." He turned and walked toward the door.
"As long as what takes?"
"Your education. So I'd suggest that you learn quickly if you wish to keep to the original schedule." He left, grinning.
* - * - *
The sun was high when Gillette was brought back to the helm by Will Turner. Robert stood behind the wheel, waiting while Lizzie steered. "Commodore Gillette, you have been acting like a pompous arse and a fool; moreso even than I when Commodore Sparrow took me under his wing, so to speak. Thus, your education shall be longer and more rigorous than mine. We shall find out if you have any learning ability beyond the exiguous level one is accustomed to encounter among the aristocracy.
"When Commodore Sparrow marked me as his slave, it was with ink. I don't know why he did not have me branded, but looking back, I would say that the lessons would have been learned more quickly if he had done so. As you have been given to me so that you may be a better servant to Lord Raymond, and thus, to the crown, I shall not be as kind."
Gillette's face was one of total astonishment. He'd thought that James would make his trip easier than Raymond implied, but instead, COMMODORE James, the pirate/privateer was talking about branding him as a common slave! He watched in horror as Will brought forth a smoking metal bucket with what Gillette assumed was a branding iron in it. Will set that bucket down and stood back, taking a cat from another bucket filled with water and holding it ready.
Robert stood tall. "You are to be my slave until I deem you ready to return to Lord Raymond. As was once pointed out to me, slaves do not dress like commodores." He produced a breechcloth. "This is your new uniform."
Gillette took the rag and examined it. "Surely you jest!"
Crack! Will let fly the cat. Gillette yelped, partly from the pain, but mostly out of surprise.
"I most certainly am not jesting. Remove your clothes and put it on immediately!"
As Gillette complied, he noticed Lizzy had turned around and was watching him, apparently taking in the view. He blushed, and put the breechcloth on as quickly as he could.
Robert took the brand out of the burning bucket and held it up so that Gillette could see the design. Although from the artistry and workmanship put into it, it was obviously a Turner, the design itself was disturbing to Gillette to say the least: a half-sized version of Jack Sparrow's tattoo, with a strange design in the center. "Where are you going to brand me?"
Crack! Gillette's face contorted as the cat caressed the bare skin of his back. "You shall call the Commodore 'Master', slave!" Will appeared to be enjoying himself entirely too much.
"Where shall you be branding me...Master?"
Robert grinned evilly. "That is entirely up to you, John-boy. Thigh or back, or somewhere it won't show."
As the significance of what his erstwhile friend sunk in, Gillette's eyes widened. "While I don't wish it to show, I question the usefulness of a slave brand on my bottom." As Will raised the cat for another blow, Gillette hastily added, "Master."
Commodore James smiled. "Because YOU would know for the rest of your life to whom you belong and owe your allegiance. The design in the center of the brand is the same design I wore when I was in your position. It is Nipponese for 'sparrow'." He motioned at Will, who took hold of Gillette, turned him around, bent him over and bared his bottom, holding him tightly in that position. Lizzy watched with interest as Robert thrust the red-hot brand at Gillette's freckled arse cheek and held it there long enough to make the pattern very obvious.
Gillette screamed, tears running down his face with agony and humiliation. As soon as the iron was removed, Will took a clean, wet rag soaking in saltwater and patted down the enflamed area, causing Gillette to groan.
Captain James handed the brand and bucket to a crewman, who took them away. He turned to the crew as Will held Gillette up straight, his breechcloth back in place. "This is my personal slave, John-Boy. When he is not doing my bidding, you may feel free to have him do yours. Should he fail to follow your orders to your satisfaction, Will Turner shall dispense punishment." He turned to Gillette, who was now favoring his left leg due to the pain in his left arse cheek. "You shall be called John-Boy, as Jonathan is much too noble a name for a slave. You shall refer to all the crew as 'Sir', and-"
"Uh HMM!" Lizzy was tapping her foot with her arms crossed.
"Oh...yes...er...except for Lizzy, who you shall refer to as 'Ma'am'. You shall refer to me as Master. Do you understand?"
Gillette opened his mouth to protest, closed it again, his demeanor changing to one of surrender. "Yes, Master."
Robert beamed. "You see? Even you can learn humility. I knew the brand could teach faster than mere words." He explained the rest of the rules to Gillette, then sent him off with a bilge crew.
* - * - *
"Robert, I now understand exactly why Jack was going crazy when you went through your training!"
"Yes?"
"I'm not cut out to be the one to discipline John-Boy. And making it appear that I enjoy doing it is insane. Why didn't you choose Pintel, anyway?"
"Because you have compassion, Will. Since you mentally and emotionally feel every lash you dole out, I need not worry about John-Boy sustaining permanent injury. Were Pintel to discipline him, there are no guarantees. He's good at what he does, but Pintel sees John-Boy as 'Commodore Gillette', not as a slave. Only his loyalty to the Black Pearl and her captain keeps Pintel from killing him. Most of the crew are the same way, which is why you've been so busy. I'm only still allowing it because every once in a while I still see Gillette reverting even after all these weeks, and Raymond needs that part of him broken. When he no longer shows those signs, I shall intervene and your job will be far easier."
"Good. Because it's tearing up my gut far worse than John-Boy's back. Or haven't you noticed Raggetti making a bowl of rice for me at every meal?"
"That bad, eh? I'll have to try something else. Lord Raymond's sloop still hasn't spotted us?"
"No sir. They'll be docking in
"Good. When we drop anchor, go see a doctor and get what you need. I'll take it from there."
"Thank you, Commodore."
A knock at the door interrupted them. "Enter!"
One of the crewmen walked in looking angry. "Mr. Turner, that damnable slave hit me with the spar that I was havin' 'im move!"
Robert looked at him. "Did he hit you on purpose, or did you put yourself in his way and he didn't notice you?
"He did a'purpose, sir. I'm sure of it."
"If you are so sure, perhaps you care to explain how it happened?" There was a soft knock at the door. "Enter!" Robert was starting to get annoyed.
The door opened, and Gillette entered the room, eyes down with a humble demeanor. "My apologies, Master. I was told Mr. Turner was in here, so I'm reporting for punishment."
Robert drew in a slow, deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between fingers and thumb. "John-Boy, what exactly happened? I expect the whole truth."
Gillette bowed, keeping his eyes down. "Yes, Master. Mr. Kendall was having me rebalance the hold, and while I was moving an extra spar, I turned with it over my shoulder and struck him on the side of his head. When I apologized, he told me that the job was not to his satisfaction, as I was not supposed to hit him, I was to find Mr. Turner for punishment."
"You are free to go, John-Boy. Just be more careful next time."
"Yes Master." Gillette bowed and left.
"Mr. Kendall, punishment shall be given for deliberate misconduct, not accidents. See that this kind of conduct doesn't happen again."
"Yes,
Commodore."
"You see? They want John-Boy
punished if he takes a piss when they don't want him to. I'm not exaggerating,
either. It was Phelps who insisted that John-Boy get five lashes for pissing on
the job." Will stood to leave. "I'm honestly
looking forward to getting back to
* - * - *
MacGreggor couldn't believe he'd
been given a room in the castle for the night, let alone when he was called
upon at
King George read through the letter
three times before he responded. #You shall have my
answer to carry back to Lord Raymond tonight. Return at
#Yes, your Majesty.# MacGreggor bowed and left.
At almost
King George gave the satchel to MacGreggor. #Deliver this to Lord Smythe-Douglass.# His hand swept to signal the "page" forward. #Also deliver my son Lawrence to him. The message will explain everything to the governor. You shall leave without delay.#
#Yes, Your Majesty.#
MacGreggor waited for
When they arrived back at the
governor's sloop, they met with several servants hauling several chests aboard.
The first thirty-two days went by
without incident, and without sight or sound of their passenger. On the evening
of the thirty-third day, there was a call of "sail ho!" from the
crow's next.
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Chapter 10 - Transfer of Goods
Captain Huntington grabbed the spyglass and scowled at the ship. "You're right. That's the Lord's Vein." He ordered Lawrence and MacGreggor into their cabins.
* - * - *
"Bloody
hell!"
Robert watched as the pirate ship raised her colors. "Moran
of all people!" He barked orders and the
* - * - *
The Lord's Vein slid to windward, bring the Pride of Jamaica under her lee with naught but a warning shot across her bow. Captain Moran boarded the sloop with sword drawn, pistol cocked, and twenty of his men likewise armed, but found Captain Huntington and his men assembled on deck waiting patiently for them, unarmed. "This sloop contains nothing of value, Captain. We are no more than a messenger vessel, but you may search the hold if you wish."
Moran sent two men to check out the
hold. Moran himself signaled
The pirate captain shifted his
position to point his pistol at
* - * - *
"Sail Ho!"
Captain Moran did not like what he
saw through the spyglass. "Damn all the luck!" The black sails of the
* - * - *
"Why Captain James, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you to my humble ship?"
Robert shook Moran's hand. "You have something I need, Colin, I require the Stewart boy, and I mean to take him by force if I must. However, I'm a reasonable man. As you were the one to capture him, I offer you one thousand guineas for him as a reward."
"You must be joking, Robert. The ransom he'd bring from his father would be ten times that amount, and that from the Crown would be a hundred times the amount or more."
"Ah, but they intend only to give the boy power and riches. I mean to use him to get to the murderer of our former captain. I couldn't possibly afford any more than two thousand."
"But, Lord Smythe-Douglass has never deigned to bother the Lord's Vein. Why should I take less than eight thousand guineas?"
"Because Jack Sparrow was even less bloodthirsty than you, Colin, and you know it...yet his gold teeth sit as a trophy in the governor's office, or have you not heard the tales? I suppose I could talk the men into twenty-five hundred."
"Aye, I have. And as I loved Jack Sparrow as my own brother, I'll let you have the whelp for a mere five thousand."
Robert grinned. "While that would be a most reasonable price should we be out for simple gain, I believe thirty-five hundred would be fair for blood."
Colin Moran grinned back. "Agreed, but under the condition that the governor AND his whelp suffer greatly before they die. Anyone who would take the teeth of such a good man as Jack Sparrow, is a barbarian to say the least."
Robert looked stone-faced at Captain Moran and shook his hand. "We have an accord. Some day you must take me up on my offer to sail under my flag. It would be more lucrative for your men, as they'd be paid an actual wage in addition to their shares."
"I'm still thinking on that, I promise you. It does sound good, but call me a power-hungry man, I enjoy being the final word on this ship."
"Do think on it. You would be an asset to the fleet."
Moran called two men to escort
Gillette was doing the crew's laundry when he saw them haul aboard a young man in the fine clothing of an aristocrat, manhandle him across the deck and down into the hold.
When Gillette was finished with the laundry, he strode to the hatch and headed directly to the brig as if he had been sent there. The young man was sitting on the wooden bench with his feet up, leaning back with his eyes closed and whistling. Gillette walked up to the cell door and averted his eyes. "Excuse me, milord. Is there anything I can do to make you a bit more comfortable?"
The man stopped whistling and looked up. "Hello. You aren't a pirate, are you."
"No, milord. I am Captain James' personal slave, but I would be honored to bring you whatever you wish, Sir."
"Can you get me out of here? I have the power to have you freed and even start you off with the money you'll need to live for quite some time."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sir, but if you would like food or bedding? I can do that, Sir."
"John-boy, Sir."
"You don't carry yourself like a slave, John-boy. Tell me...what was your name before you were taken into slavery?"
"Jonathan Gillette, Sir."
"Odd. There is a Commodore
Jonathan Gillette at
Gillette swallowed hard. This was
definitely someone at Court who knew the goings on in
"But Sir, this is the Black Pearl. The captain and crew would never do anything such as that."
"You speak very kindly of these pirates for a Commodore of the fleet OR a slave."
"Sir, I only speak the truth." He paused, thinking about something. "You said you are a former Stewart, milord?"
"Yes,
actually. My
father and I have just recently been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George
the first, and I was on my way to inform my father of the news when the royal
messenger sloop was attacked. I must admit that Captain Huntington is quite
probably relieved to have his quarters back. I'm afraid I'd commandeered his
cabin to keep up appearances."
"Please, Your
Highness. Tell me more. I'm afraid
"Yes, I suppose it is. Very well. My father, Sir Raymond, Lord Smythe-Douglass and I have been formally adopted by His Majesty. I am bringing Sir Raymond the news personally because I have reason to believe that he would be somewhat less likely to shoot me than the original messenger, and, truth to tell, I wanted to see the look on his face when I inform him that his position has been moved by the King with the consent of the Parliament to the front of the line, so to speak." He grinned.
Gillette definitely recognized that grin, even out of the corner of his eye. "The members of this crew would never cause harm to the son of Jack Sparrow, Your Highness. What is the real reason you are in the brig?"
"Then I must report to Mr. Turner for punishment. I was not ordered to come here."
"Enter!"
Once inside,
Robert beamed and took Gillette by
the shoulder, leading him up to the helm where Will was peacefully steering and
staring off at the horizon, no doubt discussing something with the
"Men, you may pat yourselves on
the back! Commodore Gillette has passed his lessons successfully, so from this
day till we make landfall at
Gillette's face lit up for only a moment. "Helmsman, Master?"
Robert clapped him on the shoulder,
smiling. "Your days of slavery are over, Jonathan, so you may go back to
calling me Robert if you wish. And yes, helmsman. You
shall learn everything there is to know about steering a ship, Jonathan, before
we make land in
Meanwhile, Will was positively beside himself with glee. "I was beginning to lose hope, Commodore. And I apologize for the harsh treatment I gave you. I do want you to know that there was no enjoyment in my beating you, no matter the appearance."
Gillette was still in shock as
Shortly afterward, they heard the captain's cabin door open and close, followed by discussion in the room, then silence. The captain's cabin door opened and closed again, and there was almost immediately a knock on his door. "Yes?"
The door opened and Robert dragged a
sea chest into the room. There was a hammock draped over the chest. "I'm
afraid we'll have to share quarters till we dock in
Gillette tried to stifle a giggle, failing miserably. "His Highness Prince Lawrence did say something about Captain Huntington probably being glad that he could have his own quarters back, as His Highness had commandeered it to 'keep up appearances'. Apparently His Highness enjoys 'keeping up appearances'."
"His Highness?"
"He's not told you?" Robert shook his head. "He and his father have both been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George. Apparently Raymond is to be our next king."
Robert laughed. "I almost pity Prince Lawrence when he tells his father." Gillette laughed with him as Robert proceeded to string up the hammock. "Bunk or hammock, Jonathan?"
"Hammock is fine, Robert. After sleeping on the floor for over two months, the hammock will feel like a feather bed."
For the balance of the journey back
to
As they sailed past Rackham's Cay into Port Royal, Jonathan Gillette could be seen at the helm, entranced much the same way Robert and Will usually were when they held the wheel; talking to the Pearl; his hands moving the wheel on their own accord, Commodore Jonathan Gillette docked the ship, guiding her to mooring as if he'd been sailing his whole life.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 11 - From Father to Son
"His Highness Lawrence Hanover, Prince of England, beloved son to His Royal Majesty, King George the first."
Raymond put his pen back in its
holder and looked up as
"Not a lot gets past me, Lawrence. Anthony introduced you as George's son, not mine. What did George do this time?"
"Leave the titles out of it,
"Yes, Sir. George has decided to adopt both of us, allow us to abandon the bastard name of Stewart."
"And? He would never have bothered if he didn't have something in mind."
"Yes, Sir. As an added boon to you, he has named you his heir above his son George. You'll be king some day, father."
Raymond grew redder with every word
that
However, instead of getting violent, Raymond slumped in his chair, his head in his hands. "He's stolen my son, my name, and my freedom. It'll be years before I would be crowned, which means years at court listening to inflated peacocks and arrogant screech owls blathering on about their own self-importance and whatnot." He frowned. "And speaking of your mother, how is Lady Elizabeth Henrietta of Hesse-Cassel and what does she think of all this, as if I didn't know?"
"She looks forward to being Queen, of course."
"And to having her husband back home, I suppose?"
"Not so much that, I'm afraid."
Raymond wasn't surprised. "No...of course not." He looked at his favorite son. "And what do you think of it all? And don't go telling me of 'honor to do the king's bidding'. You're MY son; I know you better than that."
"Actually, it IS an honor. But no, I don't like what he's done to you. Especially after he told me that it would be a good punishment for all the time you've stayed away from Court having fun."
At that point, there was a knock at the door, surprising them both. "Enter!"
Anthony opened the door. "Commodore Jonathan Gillette."
Gillette walked into the room and saw both Raymond and Lawrence. Their likenesses were uncanny, even with the years separating them. He bowed. "Your Royal Highness bade me report to you immediately upon my return, Sir."
"Sit down and relax, Commodore. Pour yourself a drink if you'd like."
Gillette poured himself a snifter of brandy and sat on the divan.
"So, Commodore. Have you learned to pilot a ship into the harbor?"
"Yes,
Governor. In
fact, I docked the
"Call me Raymond. By all appearances, you have learned that I am not your enemy. I'm glad."
"Yes, Raymond. I do understand now, and have had a great deal of training in the realm of humility and humbleness toward others of all social classes."
Raymond laughed. "Tell me, Jonathan. What design did Robert draw on your thigh?"
"None, Your Highness. He neither painted it, nor does it appear on my thigh."
Raymond frowned.
"He branded it on my arse as a permanent reminder to whom I owe my allegiance."
Raymond's eyebrows rose. "I see. I apologize for that. I never told him to actually brand you. Point of fact, I abhor slavery and all the trappings thereof."
"I know that, Raymond. Robert himself told me that it was his idea and that it would teach me faster with the brand. I agree. Painting an image on my thigh would not have impressed upon me just how serious the lessons were. Looking back, I'm glad that he branded me, and I wear your mark with pride, Your Highness."
"On your bum."
"Yes sir. On my bum."
Raymond grinned. "Incredible."
He turned to
"Good.
"But Your Highness,
"Jonathan. You know who and what I am in my heart. And you know just how much I prize my freedom. George is giving me a life sentence of hard labor in my eyes. So much so that, for only a moment...I actually thought of becoming Catholic just to escape it." He chuckled halfheartedly.
"I'm truly sorry, Your Highness. I had hoped you would be pleased. I think you would make a marvelous king, Sir."
"I suppose thanks are in order,
but I do hope the parliament turns me down at the end." Raymond stood,
taking Ishtar from his lap where she'd been sleeping and transferring her to
his pocket without waking her. "I bid you both good afternoon. Feel free
to stay for supper. The chef is making
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 12 - The End
The cities of
Lord-no, PRINCE-Raymond sadly watched the sights and the crowd go by as his carriage moved slowly through the streets. He kept a beatific smile plastered to his face as he waved to the people, handkerchief in hand, the long, lavender curls of his wig matching his clothes for the occasion.
As the carriage stopped at the dock, two rows of marines snapped to attention, making a path to the gangplank of the HMS Freedom, which had been sent by His Royal Majesty for a speedy delivery of the prince.
Heart of lead but head held high, Prince Raymond flounced aboard the Freedom with a sense of irony so biting that he wept.
The crowd, luckily, thought they
were tears of grief over leaving
As soon as the ship was out of the harbor, Raymond strode into his cabin, slamming the door.
During the first evening, the helmsman was looking at the sunset as he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to acknowledge the man now before him. It was Raymond, but gone completely was the "Poof of Port Royal".
In its place was a small, wiry man dressed in black, his hair tied back, out of the way. On his belt he carried a sword and a pistol; the sword was a Turner Original.
As the helmsman sized him up, unable to fathom who the man was, Raymond caught his attention. "There's a big storm coming our way. I'd suggest we heave to and drop anchor till it's over."
At a signal from the helmsman, someone brought the captain. "What is it Your Royal Highness wishes, Sir?"
"I wish that we heave to and drop anchor till the storm passes. There are some treacherous waters and reefs in front of us, and I wouldn't wish to see this ship on the bottom because my warning wasn't heeded."
"But Your Highness, the sky is clear, Sir."
"Nevertheless, there's a storm brewing. I can smell it, Captain. And believe me when I tell you that I've NEVER been wrong."
"I was ordered by His Royal
Majesty King George himself to bring you back to
"I do hope your men can swim
then. If this were MY ship, I'd take the next two hours and change heading to
"You are correct, Your Highness. But I do promise you; we shall drop anchor the moment clouds are sighted, Sir."
* - * - *
As waves from nowhere broke across the port side of the ship, tossing it almost like a toy boat, men from all watches raced up the ratlines to take in the sails. Others dropped the anchor, hoping it would find purchase on something. Still others were battening down the hatches. As the captain looked up, he saw clear skies; but no...the Eastern stars were being eaten by a pitch blackness. Looking around, he saw no sign of Raymond, so he sent one of the marines to the Prince's cabin to bid him stay there. When the man returned, he learned that the cabin was empty.
"Well find him! If we return to
Another wave tried to roll the ship over, but she righted herself without too many problems. So far, three men had been swallowed by the sea, but the sails were almost completely furled. The rain started to pour down as another wave hit. Again, the Freedom kept her balance, pitching another sailor into the sea.
Hinkman, the first mate, pointed up. "Sir! I've found Prince Raymond! He's up the mainmast helping with the sails!"
"NO! Get him down and into his cabin!"
Hinkman threw himself onto a ratline and made his way up most of the way to Raymond's position. The prince had just finished securing the newly furled sail. "Prince Raymond! The captain says to go to your cabin till this blows over!"
Though he barely heard the first mate over the noise, Raymond looked down to see Hinkman hanging on for dear life. "Get down from there! Don't you know how dangerous it is up here?"
"Yes I do, Your Highness, and that's why you are to get DOWN from there, Sir!"
Raymond climbed down to Hinkman's level and reached around a line, grabbing the first mate's shirt. "Take this line in both hands and slide down NOW! I'll be right behind you!" He pulled the younger man forward giving him no choice but to grab the line or fall. Raymond watched as Hinkman slid down the rope, landed and cleared the area. Grabbing the line, Raymond expertly slid to the bottom, where he was met by the captain and two guards.
Captain Huntington did not appear appreciative of his actions. "Take His Highness to his quarters and make sure he doesn't leave them!" The two guards grabbed Raymond by the arms and ushered him toward his cabin.
As another wave hurled the ship onto its side, there was a great groan, and several of the mast lines snapped; the foremast fell crashing to the deck, hurling six more men into the hungry waters. As the anchor cable ripped through the railing, several feet of decking ripped out of its place, along with the anchor winch.
Quite suddenly, just as the Freedom righted herself, there was a mighty jerk and a deafening ripping sound from below. Another wave followed immediately, capsizing the broken Freedom beyond her ability to roll back. The ship was dead.
* - * - *
When the storm finally cleared, the Black Pearl made her way quickly to the area she'd last seen the Freedom, picking up anything of value and any survivors they could find. When they reached what was left of the Freedom, they found three men sitting on the capsized ship, but no others; a total of seven men including those who they'd found on the way had survived. When asked if anyone had seen Prince Raymond, only one of them responded.
"Yes, Sir. I was ordered to bring His Highness to his cabin. We'd almost gotten there when we capsized. I don't know what happened to him after that."
The
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Epilogue - The Cane
(Six Months Later)
Governor
There was a knock at the door. "Yes?"
Commodore Gillette entered the room and poured a generous glass of rum for the Governor and a snifter of brandy for himself. The Governor turned from the window and took the glass. "Thank you, Jonathan."
They spoke for a while of the goings
on of
Then Gillette noticed something odd
about the way
Gillette raised his glass and saluted the portrait. "I too. Happy Birthday, Jack Sparrow."
* - * - *
Captain Robert James examined the line of men attempting to become part of the Black Pearl's crew and smiled. /Not the usual ragtag sailors to choose from. Looks like maybe even an ex-military man or two, by their bearing./ He walked up to the first man, who was near half a head taller than he. "Name and experience, sailor."
"The name's Tom, sir. I sailed with Cap'n Powell for six months, and before that I was a merchant sailor, sir, with the Smythe-Douglass Shipping Company."
Robert smiled. "Sign the articles and grab yourself a billet, Tom!" He moved to the next man.
Robert kept going down the line,
accepting all of the men so far, as they were all well-experienced and weren't
of a violent nature as far as he could tell. He asked the same questions of
each man. Then he came to a man about his own height, his chestnut brown hair
with several small, beaded braids reaching to his collar, and sporting a neat
goatee. After a quick double take, Robert laughed and clapped the man on the
shoulder. "Mr. Groves, while I'm sorry to see you've left the navy, I'm
glad to see you! Welcome aboard the Black
As
His voice was a mild tenor and had an Irish accent, but Robert recognized it nonetheless. "Call me Johnny, Sir. And I've sailed these waters for nigh on thirty years under various captains, most lately Captain Moran of the Lord's Vein."
Robert smiled gently. /If he wants
to remain anonymous, I'll let him. He's been killed more times than anyone
should be, though I hope this time he stays
"dead". I AM glad that he chose to come to me...but then again...I
pity the poor sod who would try to keep Jack Sparrow from his Lady./ "Welcome aboard the Black
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End |
